


The Squeaky Wheel

by runawaygypsy



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Unrelated (2007) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy





	The Squeaky Wheel

He seemed a bit too eager to help when Bree, Alexandra's teenaged daughter asked. The boy, because that's what he was to her, was a neighbor and, from what Alexandra could surmise, was home from his first year of university. Bree, herself, was scheduled to begin University that fall, so it wasn't the age difference that bothered her. 

His name was Oakley and, in the month since the two of them moved to his neighborhood, he'd been a constant fixture in their home. Bree seemed smitten. For a while, she followed him around like a lost dog. He didn't seem annoyed with her and Alexandra welcomed the help.

No, what bothered her was the fact that he was almost too willing to do whatever she asked, almost to the point of being underfoot, if that were possible for anyone of his considerable height to achieve. On more than one occasion, she found herself short with him, exasperation coming out in the form of, "Oakley, don't you have a home you need to go to?"

His pat response was usually some form of charm, whether it be a mischievous smile or a wink, followed by, "Of course, anything."

After the second month, it became apparent to her that Bree's affections had moved on, that she'd caught the eye of one of Oakley's friends and paired off, but Oakley still came by. Whenever Alexandra would comment on it, Bree would simply roll her eyes and say, "Mum, he's my friend and he just wants to help." Yet, Alexandra still wasn't entirely sure helpfulness was his motive. 

And then, there was the incident with the paint. She decided one weekend to paint the dining room. Bree protested, complaining that she'd already made plans with her boyfriend. Alexandra let her leave - she was a grown woman and surely could paint one little room herself. She bought the paint, a lovely shade of sage green, covered every inch of the floor and furniture with plastic sheeting and old newspapers, and went upstairs to change into her scrubbiest clothing, which happened to be a pair of holey, cut-off sweatpants and a horribly stained, oversized t-shirt. She also grabbed a baseball cap from the closet - one of the few things her husband left behind when he'd had his midlife crisis and run away with the yoga instructor from the health club. It was over two years since that'd happened and she still hadn't got around to getting rid of some of his things. Instead of married and miserable, she was now divorced and miserable.

By the time Alexandra got downstairs again, she found Oakley in her dining room with a paintbrush in hand, already covering the wall. She was already annoyed by the sudden onslaught of painful divorce memories that the boy's presence perturbed her even more. "Oakley," she let out impatiently, "Bree isn't here and you don't need to help."

He turned around and grinned at her. "It's alright, Alexandra, I want to help."

He never called her by her first name. Ever. The entire time they'd known each other, he'd respectfully referred to her as Ms. D. or Ms. Duncan. It startled her. "I'm not helpless," she sputtered. "Please, just go and let me do this on my own." Her blood was beginning to boil and she wasn't sure if it was fury or due to the fact that she found herself drawn in by that smile, by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Alright," he sighed, letting the smile drop. "I'll leave, but call me if you need help, okay?"

Alexandra nodded. Something had changed between them and she wasn't sure when. As he left, she found herself watching him through different eyes. The thoughts disturbed her. He was, after all, her daughter's age and they were friends. She shook her head and threw herself into painting to push the thoughts from her mind.

Two hours later, she was covered in sweat, the room was halfway done and her clothing was spattered with enough paint to slather another small wall. Nearly exhausted and getting weak from hunger, she decided to take a break. Alexandra went into the kitchen, washed her hands and got a glass of cool water. She was standing next to her sink when Oakley made his next appearance. 

Oakley never knocked, never rang the doorbell- he just made himself at home. Alexandra nearly jumped out of her skin when he walked up behind her and said, "I brought over a plate of sandwiches. I thought you might be hungry."

She whipped around and scowled. "God, Oakley, don't you ever knock?" she gasped. Her eyes settled on the plate he held and, as she calmed down, she said, "Those look delicious and I am hungry. Thank you."

He looked pleased with himself. "Where shall we eat?"

"I'll grab an old sheet and we can eat in the back yard," she suggested. Right after she said that, though, the humidity took a turn and the dark skies that threatened them all day ripped open with a thunderstorm, torrents of rain soaking everything in seconds. "Or not."

They settled on the sheet in the middle of the living room. Alexandra grabbed a bottle of wine before she sat down, feeling now, more than ever, she needed a drink. She offered a glass to Oakley and he nodded. After she sat down, he handed her a sandwich and began pouring the wine. "You know," he said as he set her glass in front of her. "You're so much younger than I would have pictured Bree's mum, had I not met you at the same time."

She blushed. "I had Bree when I was very young," she replied. "I just turned sixteen when she was born." 

"Oh," he said with a smirk. He was smug and she suspected he was up to something. Oakley wolfed down his sandwich and sipped his wine, never taking his eyes from her.

Alexandra was simultaneously unnerved and intrigued by his gaze. He watched her with something more than interest and it woke something inside her that had been dormant. Yet, she dismissed the feelings that welled up. She was sensitive and her perception was off. She finished her sandwich and wine in silence.

"Well, thank you so much for the food, Oakley, she said as she moved to stand up. "That was much needed." The wine had affected her more than she'd thought it would and, as she stood, the room wavered and she began to fall.

Oakley was quick on his feet and he held her around the waist, stabilizing her. "Are you alright?" he asked. His face was so near hers. She nodded, but the air around them had become charged, thick and palpable. Instead of letting her go, he held her there. They were in stasis until he leaned down and kissed her.

Like the fairy tales, it was this kiss that awoke her from her stupor. Alexandra put her hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. "Oakley, no," she protested. "I'm old enough to be your mother."

He smiled and shook his head. "No, you're a young, vibrant woman," he whispered as he leaned down and kissed her ear. 

Alexandra's knees went weak. She felt helpless. She felt guilty. She felt incredibly turned on. Letting her hands drop, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Why me?"

He chuckled as his kisses moved down her neck. "Because, whether you realize it or not, you're sexy as fuck." 

"I'm covered in paint," she excused.

"We can change that," Oakley smiled. He slid his hands under her shirt and pulled it over her head, taking the baseball cap with it. There was a slight smirk as he realized she'd forgone wearing a bra and her breasts were bared, a split second between that realization and his mouth upon her again, suckling at her while his fingers worked the opposite side. His touch was enough to send her into overdrive.

As he trailed his fingers over her belly and onto her hips, she sighed, "We shouldn't be doing this..."

He grasped the elastic of her sweat shorts and with it the elastic of her panties. "Do you not want this?" he asked, concerned, freezing his actions.

Alexandra turned her eyes to him, swept them from his arms up to his face. "Because you're just a boy and I'm..."

"A gorgeous woman," he finished. "And I am definitely not just a boy." He pulled his hands away from her and took off the tank top he wore, then loosened the draw string on his baggy shorts, letting them fall down his hips and pool on the floor. His cock was already engorged and saluting her."

She licked her lips. "Okay, you are definitely not a boy," she sighed, "But I thought you had a thing for Bree. I know she had a crush on you and..."

Oakley shut her up with a kiss, pressing himself against her, backing her against the wall as he did. His hands resumed their position and pulled down the sweats and panties she wore without any hesitation. "You had it wrong," he mumbled. "It's always been you." He nibbled on her ear as his hands slid behind her, grasping her ass and kneading.

His cock pressed against her belly, hot, stiff, and she wedged her hand between them to touch it, feeling it twinge as she nimbly fingered it. "But, our ages..." she tried to protest.

"Are not a problem," he returned, his voice muffled by his mouth on her collarbone. "At least, not for me." He stood straight and looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "If it is for you, I can leave." 

He played like he was going to back away, but she reached her arms around and held him there. "Please, stay," she whispered as she leaned up to kiss his neck. 

His response was to guide her towards the sofa. It could have been a dance, were someone to only see their silhouettes in the window, sensuous, romantic as they moved around each other, their kisses hungrily moving over each others' bodies. Once they reached it, Alexandra laid down, her head rested against the arm, her legs spread for him. He could see her excitement in the drops of dampness that clung to her and he smiled as he moved over her, kissing her still, from her calves, up the inside of her legs, to her mound where he avoided the one spot she wanted to feel his touch. He kissed and licked an nipped all the way to her mouth and hovered over her, his tip at her entrance, teasing as he gyrated his hips, just barely bumping into the sensitive nerves of her clit. "This is a moment I've dreamed of," he smiled.

"Shut up and fuck me, Oakley," she replied as she grabbed his hips and bucked her own into him, nearly letting him in.

Oakley took the invitation, driving himself into her, then stopping and letting her adjust to him. "You feel so good," he purred as he kissed her neck. 

She gasped at his size, but it had been so long since she'd had, well, anything that the sensation of being so completely filled made her feel nearly virginal. Alexandra was exhilarated as he let her adjust, but, in her own excitement, she felt an almost immediate build-up of energy, heat, pleasure that she gave herself over to. Once he started slow gyrations with his hips, all of her repressed energies, her forgotten sexual feelings re-emerged in a climax that seized every muscle in her body and burned them down to her primal core. It was so much so, even her voice was strained to only a breathy keen, barely audible as she screamed his name. 

Once she relaxed and moved her hips to his own rhythm, she kissed him. "I underestimated you," she whispered, her voice breaking with each passionate breath.

"You've seen nothing yet," he chuckled as he drove into her once again, then pulled out. He got up for a moment, then said, "Your turn to take top," he announced as he helped her up. He laid down in her place and rested his hands on his chest.

Normally, Alexandra would have seen that type of behavior as cocky, arrogant, but now, it was hot. The way he offered himself to her, she couldn't resist. "Alright," she smiled, then, mimicking his own motions, she kissed him slowly, up his legs, then just the glistening, purple head of his cock, tasting herself on his sweet skin. 

His cock twitched at her touch and he let out a small moan that shot right back to her core. Slowly, deliberately, she slid herself up his body, kissing every inch of his sweet, salty skin until she reached his mouth. She lingered there, her tongue insisting on entry so he could taste her as well. Her entire body was on fire. She could feel him against her, harder than ever and, with a deep breath, spread herself apart and pushed down, sheathing him with herself entirely. "Fuck," he said as she pulled herself up again. He licked his lips as he watched her move above him, her hips rocking into him, her breasts resting just on his chest before moving pendulously over his mouth. Claiming one with a cupped hand, he licked and nibbled at her nipple, each touch sending a jolt through her. His other hand moved to her hip and, as she came up, pushed her back down onto him. 

Alexandra felt the knot in her belly tighten once again, twist into a burning coal of wanton desire. She ground herself into him as he rose into her, feeling him hit every one of her sensitive spots, each motion making her voice raise, her breathing heavier, until she was nearly begging for release. "Oh, God!" she cried, "Fuck me, Oakley! Fuck me hard!" 

Oakley abandoned her breasts, gripping her hips as she sat more upright on him, his cock bottoming out, the tip hitting against her innermost spot as she mewled with pleasure. "Damn," he groaned as he felt her climb toward release, her walls closing around him, muscles pulsating against him.

She leaned back and rested her hands on his legs while waves of ecstasy washed over her. Her entire body went rigid, wracked with paroxysm as her voice reached a ragged fever pitch. "Oh, Oakley!" she screamed. Her voice echoed throughout the house. All at once, she was exhausted and laid down, resting on his chest. She kissed his cheek. "God, you're good," she whispered.

His arms closed around her and held her there while he thrust into her, feeling his own imminent release. He growled as he rutted into her, a feral man claiming his mate. She felt him harden inside her as his pace increased until, with one final grunt, he came, spilling inside her. The moment he realized they had been without protection, he pulled himself from her. "Sorry, oh, God," he worried.

Alexandra smiled. "It's okay, I've had my tubed tied since Bree was born," she reassured him.

Oakley relaxed. "Thank, God," he gushed, then kissed her. "Would you like a second round?"


End file.
